Big Golden Kitty
by Lucinda
Summary: On the run from an angry mob, Spike and Dru meet a very interesting person. Dru thinks he's a kitty. Shortfic, contains violence.


A Big Golden Kitty (pg 13, Spike/Dru, Vic Creed)  
  
author: Lucinda  
  
rating: pg13 for violence  
  
main characters: Spike, Dru, Vic Creed  
  
pairing: there is Spike/Dru, but it isn't central  
  
disclaimer: I hold no legal rights to Spike & Dru (they belong to Joss Whedon of Buffy), I hold no legal rights to Vic Creed (Sabertooth of Marvel Comics).  
  
Distribution: Paula, Twisting the Hellmouth, TNL - anyone else ask. Anyone on Creedfics that wants to archive it may.  
  
note: Before the mob at Prague weakened Drusilla, and before men named Xavier and Magneto formed groups of opposing mutants, there was an encounter....  
  
"They're still out there, with their great big forks and their torches and the angry words." Drusilla's voice was soft, almost pitiful sounding with her confusion. "Why do they want to eat us all up, my Spike?"  
  
Glancing at his lover, Spike sighed, his mood softening a little bit. "Dru, mortals don't like it when you eat their priest. Tends to get them unhappy."  
  
"But they have those big forks... and no spoons. Where are the giant spoons, my love?" She was peering into the darkness, her eyes fixed on the torches of the angry mob.  
  
Spike shook his head, leaning against the tree. His princess had a knack for starting mobs, and if it weren't for the fact that the mobs always wanted to kill them, he'd be rather impressed with her talent. But he loved her, with all her little quirks. "They don't have spoons that size, baby. We'd best keep moving."  
  
Dru swayed, her fingers moving as if she was playing a melody on the piano. "oohh... my Spike... The stars say that there's a big yellow kitty. If we stay with him, the angry people won't poke us with their big forks. I've always wanted a kitty, can we keep him?"  
  
"We'll have to see about that. Where is this kitty anyhow?" Spike was trying to figure out what Dru meant. All he'd gathered was that there was a 'kitty', and if they stayed with him, the mob either wouldn't find them, or wouldn't be able to hurt them. And Dru thought that she wanted a cat now.  
  
"This way! Oh, he's got such a splendid yellow mane, all soft and long... I wonder if I can make him purr..." Dru started moving, her stride long and swift, entirely confident of where she was going.  
  
She led him to a cabin, a bit rough looking but definitely solid. It had been built by someone that was more worried about the place being solid than looking pretty. Unlike so many of the homes in this area, there were no dogs, no chickens or geese or whatever god-forsaken birds somebody wanted to keep. She was smiling as she walked up to the door and knocked on it, just as if she were an expected social visitor.  
  
Spike had to smile, looking at her. Her dress was muddy, the hem torn, the sleeves and bodice spattered with blood. There was still a smear of it on her cheek, and her dark hair was piled on her head, a few tendrils trying to slid loose. Her dark eyes were bright with her visions. She looked like his wonderful, mad princess. And what sort of person would let someone like her into his home? It wasn't like they could just barge inside, that pesky need for an actual invitation prevented that far better than any lingering sense of good manners.  
  
When the door opened, Spike only barely managed to keep from gaping. The man was huge, almost eight feet tall, and all of it muscle. He would have taken him for the creature from Frankenstein except that the wild mane of hair was golden blond instead of dark. Unless the Shelly chit had got a few things wrong... And this man didn't smell quite human.  
  
The man looked at them, his almost yellow eyes narrowed slightly. "Why are a pair of vampires on my porch?"  
  
"Can you help make them go away? They have giant forks and torches, and they are very cross." Dru looked at the large man, her eyes looking soft and tearful.  
  
Blinking, the man turned to Spike. "What does she mean?"  
  
Spike leaned against the wall, lighting a cigarette. "Dru ate a few people there, and they got a bit upset. Now, there's a mob out looking for us with torches and pitchforks." Remembering a bit of manners, he offered a cigarette to the other man.  
  
He accepted the cigarette, and the offered light, and sighed. "An angry mob... haven't seen one of those in a while. Mind if I play with them a bit"  
  
Noticing the look of anticipation and bloodlust in the blond man's eyes, Spike nodded. "Sounds pretty good to me."  
  
"Your frail there might want to go inside and clean up a bit, there's mud on her dress." He smiled a bit. "You can lead me to these idiots."  
  
"I shall freshen up, and when you get back, there shall be tea and cakes for all of us." Dru spoke calmly, a smile on her face as she raised the hem of her skirt a bit and slipped inside past the large man.  
  
With a single glance back, the man left the house, his attention turning to Spike. "So, who are you two?"  
  
"I'm Spike, that's Dru." The moved away from the house, the large man apparently having as little need for light as Spike. "She's... a bit hard to follow sometimes."  
  
"Here I would have said that she sounds barking mad." The man shook his head.  
  
Spike stopped, glaring at the stranger. "Don't insult her. She's just.. a bit off her rocker, but she's still got a good insight into what's going on."  
  
Slowly, the big man smiled. "A bit off... fine. Call me Creed."  
  
The mob had been prepared for a dangerous man protecting a madwoman. That didn't help them against Spike and Creed. With Dru safely away from the mob, the rules had changed, and now, instead of being the hunted, Spike was relishing the idea of hunting the mob. He and Creed had split up, and when either of them found someone a bit back from the main gathering, they would strike, killing them eagerly.  
  
Spike had found a few of Creed's victims. They'd been slashed, sometimes practically gutted by something sharp, the wounds having the clean edges of a single forceful stroke. But they hadn't all been killing strokes. Fatal yes, but some of them were slow deaths, the blood draining from their bodies as their entrails became outrails, as Dru would say. Oh, this Creed was definitely not the sort of person that played well with mortals.  
  
He liked him already.  
  
Eventually, one of the townspeople found a body. It was hard to say who's victim had been found, there were just wordless screams of panic. The panic began to spread, and the woods was filled with fear. It was delicious and delightful.  
  
Creed was chuckling merrily as they made their way back to the cabin, both of them nearly dripping with blood. That had been some of the most entertaining hunting that Spike had enjoyed in years.  
  
"Maybe I should stick around with you and your frail for a while, if this happens very often." Creed's words were the only sound in the night air.  
  
With a predatory grin, Spike nodded. "Sounds good to me."  
  
  
  
end A Big Golden Kitty. 


End file.
